Page 60 of The Viscount's Seduction
Chapter 14
Bakeley lookedinto Sirena’s wide eyes. She’d noticed his bulge.
He couldn’t help grinning. “See what you do to me?” He planted a quick kiss on her swollen lips. “Come along then, Lady Bakeley. They are waiting.”
A groom rushed to put down the steps and he brushed the man aside, turning to help Sirena himself.
She lifted her eyes to the bright lights and the crowd of Kincaid’s guards that had gathered. “Is there to be company?”
“Company?”
“The lights. This crowd. I had much rather not entertain.”
“Heaven forbid. I would send them all away.”
That brought a shy smile from her.
Desire roared through him. It took all his control to hand her down gently, but once her feet touched the ground, he swept her up into his arms.
She gasped, the same noise she’d made when he’d fondled her breasts. Another surge of lust swept him.
“What are you doing?” she cried.
Like a conquering hero, I’m taking home my spoils. “Carrying my bride across the threshold,” he said. “To placate the house gods. You’ve heard of that custom, have you not?”
“Am I not too heavy?”
Heavy? He felt as powerful as a savage. “Not heavy at all.”
“You’re huffing and puffing.”
“That is anticipation, love.”
In the light of the landing, he could see her face flush.
They crossed the threshold and he set her down. She greeted the servants politely.
The housekeeper curtsied. “I’ll assist you, my lady, until you’ve selected an abigail.”
“Not tonight,” he said. “You may lock up and retire. If we need anything we’ll raid the kitchen for ourselves, shall we not?”
Sirena rewarded him with a smile.
“We’ve laid a cold repast in your chamber, but should you want more, there’s fresh bread in the box and good butter in the cold cabinet.” The housekeeper rubbed her hands together. “I’ve filled a kettle. It will just need to be heated.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Sirena said.
“Good night,” he said.
“Come along, missus.” Mr. Windle took hold of his wife, fighting a smile.
Bakeley turnedthe key in the bedchamber door’s lock, and then hauled his bride up into an ardent kiss.
She didn’t seem quite as willing as before. Not wholly stiff, either. He set her back and studied her face.
She was nervous, he decided. Or perhaps hungry. She’d picked at her food during the wedding party. In any case, when the time came, he wanted her willing. He’d never forced a woman in his life.
“Shall we check out Mrs. Windle’s cold repast?” He dropped her hand and went to the table, removing covers. He poured two glasses of wine, and carved off a hunk of bread.
